


Rubber Bands and Old Tweed Caps

by Yoake_yoake



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Each chapter focuses on a different boy, F/F, I had this idea in Algebra, It looks long but I assure you it's not, It's different, Jack being first, M/M, My Own AU, Specs going last, The chapters go in the order of characters listed, Then they are together, and it's a bit more organized, i can't write, modern au with a twist, sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-03 18:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12151986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoake_yoake/pseuds/Yoake_yoake
Summary: 16 boys were brought together but only because of the past.The 16 boys were all named after their grandfathers, the true newsboys of 1899. Each got an item that would bring them together once again to repeat that part in history, even if it's not quite to the same scale.*ATTENTION: CANCELLED DUE TO UNINSPIRED WRITER*





	1. Chapter 1

_**JACK KELLY** _

 

Jack shot up awake, breathing heavily and frantically looking around. He sat alone on the city bus headed to school, the green seat rough underneath him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.   
  
Another one of those stupid nightmares.   
  
He's been having them since he was 6. Though recently they've decreased. Yet still, with every one that comes, they seem to get more vivid and bright.The crunch gets louder, his grandfathers' rasped voice from the front seat.  
  
"Jack..." he'd whispered, holding something out to him, "take this... and go... find the refuge... remember-" he was taken over but hoarse coughs as blood started to trickle from the corner of his mouth, "-r-remember to- a-always .. band... together...."  
  
And with that, the light that always existed in his grandfathers' bright blue eyes died. Jack had whimpered and scampered out of the completely crushed Buick, starting to cry and back away, only to be thrown back as the car exploded, his mother and grandfather both completely engulfed in the bright orange flames.   
  
The EMT's found him a few moments later, taking him to the nearest hospital and treating him for burns, cuts, and bruises. Everything ached and the things they put on him stung but he didn't say anything. The man on the news had called his survival a miracle. But even at a young age, he felt as if he was supposed to die in that crash as well.  
  
He kept remembering the sad way people would say his name, "Jack.. Jack.. Jack..", he didn't want them to say his name like he was a beaten puppy, "Jack... Jack... Jack?", He didn't want their sympathy,"Jack? Jack!  
  
Jack!!"  
  
Suddenly, he was yanked from the memory, tossed back into his seat on the bus. Everyone was staring at him. They'd stopped at his school and the driver was standing over him.   
  
"Jeez, kid," the driver said with a sigh, "Frightened me there. For sure I thought you were dead."  
  
Jack shook his head and stood. "Sorry, Mr.Thomas. I was just lost in thought."  
  
"That's alright kid, just warn me next time you decide to go out of it." Mr. Thomas went back up to the front of the bus, chuckling at his own joke. Jack followed closely behind him.  "Have a good day, kid." He bid as Jack climbed down from the bus the enter the school building.  
  
Jack stopped right in front of the door, taking a deep breathe. He pulled his grandfathers' gift to him from his back pocket: an old, newsboy style, blue tweed cap.   
  
Jack sighed, putting the cap atop his head and heading into the door to the school.   
  
But it wasn't long until he found himself stopped again, staring around at other boys in the Common Area. 14 boys all catching his attention.  
  
All 14 wearing something that seemed too old to exist.  
  
And they were all staring right back at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Davey Jacobs**  
  
  
  
David Jacobs never really got along with his father's side of the family.

For starters, they all seemed to see him as a disappointment. 

They always told him how much better he'd look "if only you'd been blessed with the Jacobs's hair" or "how I wish you'd gotten your father's eyes". He'd always been told that being a Jacob was what he should have wanted and that he should "pray for the Lord to fix him up".

And yet, there was always one person to defend him.

"Shut up there, Margret, or your next dollar goes to the pot." Grandfather David would say over a hand of cards. "Hush up that tone," he'd defend David at dinner,"Or you'll be the one making dessert next time. Then Grandfather David would smile kindly at him and wink. And at the end or dinner he'd give him a little extra pie. Or the extra change he'd get from his winning hand in poker.

Grandfather David liked David just fine.

Then the family got into some hard times. David's dad had hurt himself at work and his mom took up a double shift, despite just having given birth about a month back.

Grandfather David started looking at him as if he was his lost brother, though David knew Grandpa Les was just around the corner.

David had hardly thought anything of it.

But one day, he came home from school, having gotten a ride from his friends mom. 

Mommy and Daddy were sitting at the head of the table,  looking more stressed then usual.

"Hello, Mommy! Hello, Daddy!" he'd greeted. "How was work?"

His mom and dad had glanced at each other before going over to him and kneeling.

"Honey," his mom began,"I'm going to need you to try to understand something for me, okay?" She had looked ready to cry so he just nodded. "Your grandfather loved you very much, alright?" He nodded again. 

"Buddy..." his dad gulped, "Grandfather David passed away. Quietly, in his sleep..."

The last thing David clearly remembers was his eyes blurring and feeling his own hot tears already spilling down his cheeks.

The rest of that year had been a blur to him- thousands of hugs and apologies from other family members, hardly had there been a word of goodbye.

It wasn't until middle school that he got what his grandfather had left him in his Will.

A dusty, beat up, blue-gray newsboy cap. And a tarnished, old writing pen that looked like it should have been in a museum.

Davey couldn't help but cry. 

He'd not been himself since his grandfather's death and this was somehow supposed to help him?

But still, it felt better to at least know his grandfather was still with him in a way, so he carried the items with him.

Even now, entering a new high school, he had to tattered cap atop his head and the pen in his shirt pocket. 

But soon found himself stopped in what he assumed to be the schools Common Area. 13 other boys were looking to him, watching him.

The first thing he gathered was that all of them had newsboy caps of their own.

The second thing? 

They were looking past him now.

And he turned as well, spotting a 14th boy, wearing a blue newsboy cap, walking towards them.

And he was the first to approach him.

"Hi," He smiled, trying to be friendly to this more bad boy esk guy," I'm David Jacobs and-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice Davey. Tell me something, why are they all starin' at me like I'm some sort of spirit." Davey looked back at the other guys, then back at the guy.

"I don't know, something just kinda-"

"Jack Kelly?" a tiny voice piped up, " _the_ Jack Kelly? Like the one would snuck onto a train just to get out of Michigan?!"  
  
Suddenly, Davey's younger brother Les ran in front of then with what appeared to be Jack's wallet in hand and his own tweed cap atop his head.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Les Jacobs** _

 

Les was the youngest of his family, with his older brother David and his sister Sarah. But in his eyes, that gave him privilege.  
  
Les had always been the baby of the family, getting mostly everything he asked for and he was rarely told no. Sarah couldn't even say no to him. Only one person had ever said that to him. And that was David.  
  
Les wanted to be just like David when he grew up. No, not when he grew up.  
  
Right now.  
  
So when he asked David if he could go to High School too- and of course David said no- he refused to give up.  
  
Les rode the same bus that David did so it honestly wasn't that hard to do.  
  
He just didn't get off at the elementary school.

He waited until David got off the bus before following him quickly. Les hid behind poles and other people, just like in his videogames. 

And it worked. David never saw him.

With a simple slip in the doors, Les had followed him in. But he stopped short, in awe of how much bigger everything was then at the elementary school.

He gazed around at the taller ceilings and hanging lights in the lobby, getting caught off guard by the giant picture of the senior class last year behind the main desk.

It wasn't until someone speedwalked past him that he realized he'd lost David.

The panic set in quickly. The looked around but only saw the kid that passed and even he was pushing through the hall ahead.

Les decided that it's be best to follow him since he seemed to know what he was doing.

Les walked ahead, trying to catch up to the long-legged boy. He was almost running just to stay up to him.

But then suddenly he stopped. Les slowed to a stop, quickly and quietly, behind him.

Then he heard his brother talking.

"Hi," David said, obviously forcing himself to speak despite his anxiety," I'm David Jacobs and-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice Davey," the boy interrupted, "Tell me something, why are they all starin' at me like I'm some sort of spirit." 

Something in his voice- Les couldn't put his finger on it- something about his voice made Les listen to him. Something told him this guy was important. So Les did what he was best at.

He grabbed his lucky cap from his backpack and entered his custom _"spy mode"._ He snatched the guys wallet from his back pocket. He flipped it open and stared at the card inside. He felt his eyes widen and he looked up at the guy.

"I don't know, something just kinda-"

"Jack Kelly?" Les interrupted this time, " _the_ Jack Kelly? Like the one would snuck onto a train just to get out of Michigan?!"

He ran around to the front of the boys staring at the one he took the wallet from.

Sure enough, it was  _the Jack Kelly_. The one they talk about on the news all the time.

"That's me," he confirmed, "Now can I please have my wallet back?"

Les handed him his wallet- which he returned to his back pocket- and then David grabbed him by his shoulder and spun him around.

"Les!" he screamed at him, "What are you doing here?! You've got school of your own!"

"I told you I wanted to come with you, so I did." Les answered calmly,"You didn't tell me you went to school with Jack Kelly."

David looked up at Jack then back down at Les, "I hadn't known..." he admitted. Then he shook his head, "That doesn't matter, we've gotta get you back to your school."

"But I don't want to go there. I wanna stay here with you." Les tried to reason.

"What would Grandpa Les say." David demanded.

Les's stomach dropped. He knew David would go there. He'd held Grandpa Les above Les's head ever since he'd died of a heart attack last spring. Anytime he did something that David didn't approve of, he'd remind him that him and Grandpa Les both had the same rules.

'Do as you're told, when you're told, or risk getting butted from the revolution.'

Les looked down. 

Awkward stepping approached and suddenly a large, greying hound was pressing his wet nose into Les's palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that this chapter took so long. A lot has been going on. The next chapter will be going up either today or tomorrow to make up for that.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Charlie Morris** _

 

Charlie was the kindest, brightest boy that you could ever meet. He never let anything bring him down. Not even his bad leg.

Ever since he was little, Charlie had been stuck with a gimp leg. He could hardly move it on his own and he had to use a crutch to get around. This gave him the smart nickname: Crutchie.

Crutchie was proud though. Not just because of his boisterous personality either. He was proud because his Papa Charles was the same way.

Papa Charles would always tell him stories on how his leg got to be the way it was. The stories were different every time. 

But one day, Papa Charles sat him down and told him the truth on how he lost use of his leg. He had lost it due to Polio before it was curable. Crutchie's leg was different, he having been born with a muscle cancer that killed his nerves.

But still Crutchie held on to the stories that his Papa Charles had told him before. Even when Papa Charles died in the hospital. Even when he was taken to an orphanage since Papa Charles was the only family he had. Even when Snyder would beat him for telling the stories to the other children to make them happy. And especially when he finally got out of that place.

Crutchie had been tossed from foster home to foster home, no one seeming to want to keep him for longer than a month.

He finally got adopted by a very kind woman named Mrs. Medda Larkin. She was the sweetest person Crutchie had ever met! And a few weeks later, she went back and adopted another boy. Crutchie had known him as Racetrack.

Everything was perfect.

Mrs. Medda was very kind and smart, so she knew when something was wrong with one of her boys. So when Crutchie stopped eating so much, and gained dark circles under his eyes she confronted him and he came clean.

Crutchie told her that every night he had nightmares, each one worse than the last. He'd wake up in a blind panic and would mumble to himself until Race could get him to go back to sleep.

Medda went out after that. Crutchie had feared that he'd hurt her in someway. But she came back an hour later with a bright smile on her face and a slip of paper in her hand.

She'd registered for a service dog.

A few months later, they got it.  _Them_ actually.

_Two_ service dogs.

Medda explained that Crutchie's Papa Charles had been given a service dog in the hospital before he died. Now the dog was getting too old to help many people so Max the golden retriever was Crutchie's until he passed on.

But the second dog was truly Crutchie's work hound. She was a small brown pug named Bridget. She was professional but at the same time she was definitely a snuggle buddy. 

And after a bit of discussion and working things out, Crutchie was allowed to take both dogs to school. 

 

Crutchie was snapped from his thoughts by Max, who had started tugging on his leash that was connected to his crutch.

Crutchie had hardly been paying attention to what had been happening that morning but he noticed what Max had tugged his leash for.

Crutchie clicked his tongue and whistled and started walking forward to the three boys at the other end of the Common Area. Max and Bridget followed closely at his sides. Max was careful not to bump his crutch.

He reached up and twisted his hat backward, the way his Papa Charles would and he began spinning the chain around his neck. On the chain was one of the last gifts his Papa gave him: 

A quarter. But not just any quarter. This quarter had a bullet hole in the center.

The two older boys looked up at him, at first noticing the dogs, then the crutch. Crutchie just smiled and nodded to Max, releasing the leash from his crutch.

Max moved to the small boy who looked no older than 12. And he pushed his wet nose into the boys' palm.

The kid- Les, he thought he'd heard- giggled and began to pet Max. Max wagged his tail happily. 

One of the older boys- Davey?- panicked.

"I-I'm so sorry, uh- m-my brother- he-"

"Don't worry," Crutchie smiled brightly, "I don't mind at all. Besides, Max is more of an attention hog then anything." Crutchie balanced himself on his good leg and held his crutch with his left hand, reaching out his right to shake hands with the two older boys. "I'm Charlie. But all my friends call me Crutchie."

Davey looked taken aback. "'Crutchie?' Isn't that offensive?"

"Not as far as he's said," Race chimed in, joining the growing group of boys and clapping Crutchie on the shoulder. "Names Racetrack, and this down here-" he said, motioning to Bridget-"-is Bridge. She's the workin' dog so don't get to close."

Crutchie noticed a shift in the tallest boy- Jack, as he'd introduced himself. He'd cocked his eyebrow, looking confused now. 

"Bridge?"

"Bridget." Crutchie explained. "She's good at what she does and she's the most stable one in the family." he joked,"That's why we call her Bridge."


	5. Chapter 5

_**SPOT CONLON** _

 

Spot Conlon had never been the smartest boy. But he knew about sports. And just by looking at the two older boys in the common area, he knew they were ball players.  
  
Baseball to be specific.   
  
Spot had been on the baseball team for a different school, the rival high school, Hamilton High. But him and a few others had been transferred after they were expelled for skipping class and starting fights in the baseball teams name.  
  
He sighed. He planned on being on the new team here so.. he might as well make friends with his 'new team mates'.  
  
He saw the kid with the crutch from the orphanage walk over with his two dogs and then another boy followed after him.   
  
Spot decided it'd be best to just go over to talk to them.  
  
He readjusted his newsboy cap and headed over.  
  
Crutchie was talking about his dog. Spot rolled his eyes. What else should he expect from the eternally positive boy he'd grown protective over.  
  
"Nice." he interrupted, "Your dog's fucking adorable. But listen, we've got something we have to address. Why are we all..." he flicked his cap up slightly.  
  
"You've got me."  _the famous Jack Kelly_ said. "We're all connected somehow."  
  
The kid that followed Crutchie stepped forward. "You mean like that destiny bullcrap? No way am I believing that shit."   
  
Spot had to admit this kid was impressively ballsy. He almost felt like he knew him from somewhere.... He'd remember someone with a face like that.  
  
Then it struck him.   
  
He was in the hospital that day.  
  
Spot was young, maybe 7 when he lost his parents to a robber in the street. But they weren't dead at the scene. So they were taken to the hospital.   
  
Spot remembered seeing this kid in the hospital waiting room. He was wrapped in one of those trauma blanket. The nurse had come in and told him something. She said whatever it was, that the person was in a better place.   
  
Then Spot's grandpa had shown up. And as they left the waiting room, he heard the kid scream, "I'm never believing that shit!!"  
  
Spot had lost his parents that day. He could never stop dreaming about the man with his gun, pointed right at his face.  
  
And when his grandpa was shot in another robbery, Spot dove so far into depression that he never forgot the look of the gun in his face.   
  
But the dreams ended differently.  
  
The kid's screaming would always shatter the dreams. He'd wake up, but no longer in a blind panic. The kid always seemed to ground him.  
  
Crutchie would always lean down from his top bunk, the bruises on his face looking black in the dark. He'd ask if Spot was okay and Spot would always respond "Yeah man, I always am."  
  
Spot was snapped from the orphanage by the kid talking to him.   
  
"-we can tell enough to say that we've all got problems. We've gotta be linked together but I refuse that it be destiny."  
  
"Fine." Jack said, "We'll all meet after school to do research. But we've gotta figure out how to get Les back to school."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG  
> I HAVEN'T HAD INSPIRATION  
> I LOVE YOU ALL, PLEASE FORGIVE ME


End file.
